


Your trying to ruin my life

by orphan_account



Series: Wicked Games [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Child Abuse, Dissociation, F/F, Friendship, Gay Michael Mell, How Do I Tag, Mental Health Issues, Michael Needs a Hug, Rape/Non-con Elements, Trans Character, Trans Michael Mell, but it's short and labled, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 09:43:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17937422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: StopMakingPunsWithMyName:Guys something’s wrong with Michael again....The long awaited sequel to my other story Wicked Games. Sorry it took too long whoops





	Your trying to ruin my life

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I'm back! Sorry it took me so long to get this out. No matter how many times I wrote it it just didn't work out for me. Didn't turn out how I wanted. It still isn't how I want it to be but at this point I don't really care so whatever. Hope y'all enjoy this and it's not too OOC or anything like that.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: This fic deals a lot with child abuse and there is a graphic abuse scene in this fic. There is also a moment when a character Dissociates.There is also a brief moment in this fic when Michael's father, who is a douchebag, groppes Michael, which is sexual assault. It's marked by ******* so if you don't like that then just skip the part in between those parts. It's really short and not too vital so don't worry if you need to skip it. Keep safe lovelies!!

StopMakingPunsWithMyName sent a message to The Michael Mell Protection Squad

 

StopMakingPunsWithMyName: Guys something’s wrong with Michael again.

BossMan: Dude, I would love to believe you but this is the third time you’ve said this and not a single time has it been true.

StoneCold: You better have some good evidence

StopMakingPunsWithMyName: I had good evidence last time

StoneCold: Michael taking longer than an hour to respond to you when you know he’s at a family reunion is not good evidence

StopMakingPunsWithMyName: In my defense family reunions suck and it was very plausible he was murdered. His cousins are wild

Bich: His cousins sound amazing

TotallyJuliet: Too off topic guys, what’s wrong with Michael Jeremy?

StopMakingPunsWithMyName: he’s been acting weird lately, zoning out a lot and just not seeming as passionate as usual. He needs a pick me up or something 

FuckImLohst: Alright, project cheer Michael Mell up has officially begun, any ideas?

TotallyJuliet: Cake and cookies

GossipGirl: Puppies and kittens

BossMan: pizza and shakes

Bich How about we all pitch in to rent one of those cheap party rooms that just opened and have a video game/movie marathon?

StopMakingPunsWithMyName: That’s actually a really good idea

TotallyJuliet: Yeah! Didn’t they just go on sale for like 75% off since their closing? If we all chip in we can surprise him!

StoneCold: Making fun of old movies and eating junk food sounds like fun. I’m down

FuckImLohst: Sounds like a ton of fun. Let’s do it

StopMakingPunsWithMyName: Alright, it's a plan!!!

________________________________________

 

“Madeline honey, can you grab my wine for me?” Michaels mom said, her eyes glued to the book in front of her. 

“Michael.” He replied gently, getting up to grab it anyways. He had decided to start pushing to get his parents to call him by his name again. He stopped trying to after a year since he came out. His parents simply refused to call him Michael. But after the whole fiasco over a month ago, where his parents took his binders and meds and his dad almost killed him, Michael decided to start again. It wasn't anything too big, he just started corrected them when they go it wrong. They never corrected themselves, but it was worth a shot. 

Maybe he could annoy them into calling him his name.

The new efforts were due to a few things, mostly because ever since the ‘Incident’, which he now called it, his dysphoria had somehow gotten worse, and hearing his dead name and pronouns everyday didn’t help it one bit. If he could convince his parents to at least try maybe the ache inside his chest and mind would diminish and he could live in peace. 

Another reason was that Jeremy and Rich had started to become overly protective of him ever since Michael decided to return home. And as entertaining as it was watching the two of them shoot dagger at his parents all the time, his parents were close to banning the two from their home altogether. And Michael knew he wouldn’t be able to survive with that. So if he got his parents to call him Michael, Jeremy and Rich wouldn’t hate them as much. See? Logic.

And maybe a small part of Michael still wanted to believe that his parents cared about him, maybe even loved him, for who he was. Maybe Michael wanted his mom to call him “Michael” and brag about her son. Maybe he wanted his dad to slap him on the shoulder while loudly proclaiming ‘that’s my boy!’ whenever Michael did something well. 

But it was only a small part. Not like he dreamed of that fantasy almost every night lately. 

Either way, Michael grabbed his moms’ wine, white since she was picky, and gave it to her. He then sat on the couch, perched on the edge and wondering how the hell he was going to start this conversation. 

Due to his failed attempts at gaining supportive parents, his mood had been declining. He tried to hide it, but his depression had been sneaking back in, even though Michael had started up his medication again. So when his friends suggested getting together for a movie and video game marathon, he readily agreed. 

The only problem was that he needed to chip in ten bucks. And he didn’t have any spending money. All the money he got from babysitting and working delivering papers was put towards starting up hormones and getting a breast reduction, because you know, those are very important to him. So that meant he had to ask for money from his mom.

Because there was no way he was going to ask anyone else to pay for him, he had standards. 

So that meant asking either his mom or dad for some money to go spend some time with his friends. He had measured both options well. If he asked his dad, the chances of him actually getting the money were a good 45%, if he managed to provide good reasonings that pleased his dad and managed to throw some flattery into it. But if he failed, he wouldn’t get the money, and he probably would get slapped or something. 

His mom on the other hand, had a probability of a solid 75% depending on the day, her mood, and how he asked. Currently, the probability rate was climbing, he got her wine, was sitting in silence, and hadn’t bugged her about anything for a couple of days. If he managed to word this correctly, he could persuade her to give him the ten bucks that he would have to work off. If he failed, well he probably would get yelled at and would miss a couple of meals, but nothing a little seven eleven wouldn’t fix. 

“I know you want something.” His mom sighed, closing her book. “I can practically hear you plotting a mile away. Spit it out.” 

Michael blinked in surprise. Okay, well there was as good of on opening as he was going to get. 

“I was wondering if I could borrow ten dollars.” He blurted out, deciding to go with the quick death. His mom studied him for a moment. 

“Why?” She asked, taking a long sip from her glass. 

“My friends and I were planning on renting a party room. I thought it would be fun and it would get me out of the house for a night.” Michael said, trying to appeal to her interests. Getting her fuck up of a kid out of the house would be beneficial. 

“If I give you the money, what would I get in return?” His mom countered, and Michael floundered. 

He had been in this position before. A favor for a favor. One of his mom’s favorite tricks. How had he forgotten about this? It was dangerous, placing his honor into his mom's hands. But he needed that money, needed the out, needed the relief that this small party thing would give him. And he also already agreed to go and he hated backing out of things. 

So he did something pretty stupid. 

“Anything you want.” He said, studying him moms face for her reaction.

His mom smiled, sweetly and without any strings attached, or at least no strings Michael wanted to see. 

“Deal sweetheart. I’ll leave the money on the counter, now leave me alone so I can read in peace.”

Dismissed, Michael quickly hurried downstairs, sending a quick message to Jeremy saying that he was in for the get together. 

Then Michael just laid on his bed, smiling stupidly as he day dreamed about the upcoming light in the middle of this dark tunnel.

________________________________

Michael has never been invited by a bunch of girls to get ready for a party. 

Mostly because he never had any friends that were girls. Or friends in general. And normally only other girls were invited to this and all his friends still viewed him as a guy, thankfully.

But Chloe insisted he come with the voice she used that would persuade even the devil to obey her. So he decided it was better deal with the anxiety than with her mad at him. 

Christine greeted him at the door, practically screaming his name to alert the others of his arrival. Michael had to admit, after hearing his deadname screamed at him all morning hearing the simple “Michael” was refreshing and welcomed. 

“Come in, come in. Jen and I were just about to put on some musicals to listen to and Brooke and Chloe are just grabbing everything we need.” Christine grabbed his hand and started pulling him forwards, barely taking time to breathe. 

She looked back at him before pausing. 

“Michael?” she asked, looking slightly worried. “Where did you get that bruise from?” 

Michael reached up to probe the still bruising flesh of his cheek, it came from his father. The two of them fought earlier this morning after Michael forgot to tell him about the party. It ended with his father lashing out and catching his cheek. He didn't have time to hide it before coming over. 

But he couldn't tell Christine that. 

“I fell off my bed this morning, I’m an active sleeper. Fell on my nightstand.” He fibbed, more than used to making excuses for when his dad slipped up and hit him somewhere where he couldn't hide the bruise. 

Christine looked doubtful but didn't ask further. 

“I'm sure Brooke can fix that for you.” she said offhandedly, before launching into a rant about some new book she read. Michael listened half-heartedly, the throb in his cheeks growing the more she talked. 

They met up with the rest of them and the four girls dissolved into easy chatter while Michael faded into the background. It was easier that way, he didn’t have to make an effort to waste the small amount of energy he had left, and the girls didn’t have to deal with him. He sat on the bed in Chloe’s room, taking in the purple walls and string lights. 

“Michael?” Chloe suddenly called out, snapping Michael’s attention in her direction just in time for him to see her toss him some weird shaped bottle. He caught it when it flew at him, turning it over to see a new concealer. Unopened and in his shade, weird since all the other girls had very different skin tones from him. “Use it to cover up the bruise, won't hide it because that things nasty, but should hide the worst of it.” 

Chloe winked at him before turning back to the large mirror the girls had pulled out. Michael stared down at the makeup, still slightly confused but playing along. He had this brand at home to, his mom bought him some because she figured it would help him be more ‘girly’ all it really did was help him hide his bags and bruises. 

Michael quickly placed some on his cheeks, rubbing it in with his fingers lightly before Brooke practically squealed at him, grabbing a brush and walking over to help him. 

Soon all the girls were surrounding him, either helping him cover the bruise, applying what felt like nail polish and was Jenna pulling out a hair curler?

Michael had no clue what was going on, but he found himself enjoying it. All four girls fussed over him and they chatted idly, gossiping and talking about the latest music and stupid things like that. After an hour they were finally satisfied with how he looked and they all drifted and sat in a circle still talking. 

“Is there a plan to this whole thing or are we just winging it?” Michael asked, leaning his head on his hand. 

“We got the room for six hours, so we'll watch a few movies and play some games before heading back to Brooke's, because her parents are away and she’s got booze.” Jenna said with a wink, and Michael chuckled slightly. 

He wasn’t the biggest fan of alcohol. All of his worst memories involved it. His mom yelling at him while tipsy, Jeremy snarling ‘loser’ at him during a party, the stink of beer on his dad's breath as he screamed and attacked Michael. 

But he trusted his friends. He trusted them to be safe, not to drink so much, to treat him with basic human decency. 

It didn't mean that he wouldn't stay far away from the drinks though. Someone needed to remain responsible. Maybe Christine would join him as a sober man. She didn't seem to be that into drinking herself.

“When are we meeting the other boys Chlo?” Brooke asked, reaching over to grab some chips from a bowl Michael only just noticed, his perception seemed off today, maybe he should check himself for a concussion after the party. 

“Ten ish minutes.” Christine replied for Chloe who seemed immersed in reading something on her phone. Now that Michael noticed, he saw that all four of the other girls were looking at their phones a lot, were they talking about him? 

No, that's was just his anxiety talking. He was being ridiculous. 

“Should we get going?” Jenna said, getting up and reaching down to help Christine to her feet. Michael climbed back up and followed the girls out, draping an arm around Brooke and Jenna as they talked idly. 

The drive took less than five minutes, them all taking Chloe's car due to the fact that everyone else was dropped off. Except him, he had to walk. 

The party room they rented was a common place for teens their age. It included a bowling alley and archery, with ten large party rooms with flat screen tv’s and anything else you would need. They were moving to a larger location, and due to that the prices dropped significantly. 

Michael had never been there before, it was a place for birthdays, and people who had parents willing to spend money on said birthdays. 

Jeremy, Jake and Rich were waiting for them at the front, Jeremy staring intently at a vending machine, Rich playing pinball, and Jake trying to flirt with the girl at the counter, who was consequently someone Michael knew. 

“Jessica!” Michael cried out, waving enthusiastically at her. All three boys looked over at them, smiling when they noticed he and the girls arrived. 

Michael quickly jogged to the front, stepping up beside Jake and smiling brightly at his sort of friend. 

“Well look who it is, Michael Mell himself. Long time no see you ass.” Jessica said with a laugh, ruffling Michaels recently curled hair. “You’ve been ditching me down at sev lately, my shift is always so lonely without you barging in.”

Michael smiled, feeling his mood lightening even more. Jessica had that effect at him, a way of always lifting his mood. She had been working at the seven eleven near his house for years now, giving him free food and drinks whenever she pleased and hooking him up with antique magazines on the side. He had no idea she worked here as well. 

“Yeah whoops, haven’t been babysitting a lot so I’ve been broke. As soon as I get a job back I’ll be there.” He said, smiling and glancing to his other friends, who were whispering to each other. His heart stuttered slightly, but he pushed it out of his mind. He was in a good mood damn it. 

“So, you here with your friends?” Jessica asked, looking slightly worried but still smiling at him. 

“Yeah, we all pitched in to pay for it.” Michael explained, finally tearing his eyes away from his laughing friends to look at her. 

“But I thought you were broke?” She asked, squinting in confusion. Michael shrugged. 

“I borrowed the money from my parents.” He explained, wanting to move on from this topic. He didn’t want to think about his parents and ruin his good mood.

“What?” Jeremy suddenly said, stepping forwards quickly and grabbing Michaels arm, a concerned look taking over his face. 

Michael tried not to flinch too badly, the unexpected touch and sudden movement spooking him a bit. It reminded him of his fathers earlier today, crowing into his space and gripping his arm as he screamed in his face. Jeremy speaking again shook him out of the mini flashback. 

“Why would you do that?” He hissed, lowering his voice slightly, the rest of their friends watched them hesitantly, unsure about why Jeremy was getting so worked up probably, everyone but Rich, who had a slightly annoyed look on his face. Even Jessica stood back, her eyebrows raised in confusion. 

“Jeremy.” Michael said, trying to pull away. “Please let go.” He pitched his voice even lower, just so Jeremy could hear him. “I’m fine, nothing happened.”

Jeremy shook his head in denial, but he did let go of Michael. “What’s that then?” He hissed, just as quiet. His eyes flickered up to Michael’s cheek, where the bruise could still be seen under the foundation over top of it. 

“Nothing. Just an accident.” Michael mumbled, not wanting Jeremy to know. Cause then Jeremy would start freaking out and something bad would happen and Michael really didn’t want that. “Is the room ready yet?” He asked Jessica, turning away from Jeremy and ignoring the hurt expression on his best friend. 

Michael really couldn’t deal with this today. His dad was right, he really was a mess. 

“Um, yeah of course. It’s just down there and to the left, third door. You can’t miss it, it’s the only door that’s unlocked. I trust you not to make a mess out of it Michael.” She said with a wink, breaking through the tension easily. Jeremy trailed slightly behind as Michael forced himself to mingle with everyone else, but as soon as they got to the room everyone was too busy admiring the open space to focus on whatever drama went down in the lobby. 

Michael forced it out of his mind, smiling brightly at Jeremy, who’s slightly frosty expression warmed as he smiled back. Then Michael was off, exploring the room for all its glory. 

The walls were painting black with bright blue lines, giving the room more game like feel to it. The tv was in the middle of the wall, a DVD player right under it. 

“Alight everyone! I brought the snacks, so the boys can help me set that up while Michael and the girls find out how the DVD player works.” Christine ordered, stepping up onto a chair, Michael guessed she liked feeling tall. Everyone set to work, Michael pulling out the abundance of discs he brought while the girls turned on the tv and put it to the right setting. 

Pretty soon food was set out on the floor and comfy looking bean bag chairs were pulled up in front of the tv, set in a half circle so everyone could see. 

“Alright, I have four movies to watch, do we want The Watchers, Footloose, The Heathers or Booby Trap?” Michael asked, waving the disks around. 

“Heh,” Rich snickered. “You said trap.”

Michael rolled his eyes as everyone groaned, Jake reaching forwards to slap the back of his friend’s head. 

After a few minutes of bickering and a very close vote, they decided to watch Heathers. 

Michael found himself relaxing, snacking on peanuts and leaning forwards, completely invested in the movie. 

After they were done they put on the next, choosing Footloose. 

They spent the entirety of the movie making fun of the acting and ridiculousness of some of the scenes. Michael was content, a warm feeling in his chest when suddenly his phone started buzzing. 

He looked down, quickly checking for who it was. 

His dad. 

“I have to take this. I'll be right back.” Michael said, quickly getting up and slipping out of the room. 

He quickly walked down the hallway until he was out of hearing from both the door and the lobby. The last thing he needed was anyone overhearing him. 

Him and his dads fight only ended a little over five hours ago, could his dad still be pissed? Why was me even calling? Did he need him?

“Hello?” Michael said, raising the phone to his ear. 

“What took you so fucking long?” His dad snapped, causing Michael to flinch away from the phone. “I was waiting for you to pick up for forever.” 

Michael noticed the slightly slurred tone to his dad's voice and he sighed to himself. 

“Sorry, I had to leave the room.” He said quietly, his eyes in the floor by his feet. His dad wasn't even there, there was no need to look down, but habit took over. 

“Do it faster next time.” His father grumbled. “I need to know your plan for tonight, since you and your mom went behind my back I know nothing about whatever the hell you're doing and I need to drive you home.”

Michael bit his lip, not even wanting to know why his mom couldn't come to pick him up. She was probably out at a bar somewhere. 

“Uh, were going to stay here for another hour before going to Brookes house for a few hours. I can text you when I need a ride?” Michael offered, holding his breath. 

“I'll text you when I’m going there. I'm glad your friends with this Brooke girl though Maddy. You keep on being friends with those dudes and people are going to start think your all fucking.” His dad said, and Michael dully hear the slap of a glass on a table. 

“I got to go now. Don’t do anything too stupid.” His dad cackled, hiccupping slightly before hanging up. 

Michael kept the phone against his ear for a second before shutting it off and walking back down the hallways almost robotically. 

He slipped the door open and made his way back to his seat, ignoring Rich's searching look from the chair beside him. 

Michael ignored it and forced him to get lost in the movie, which they had changed to Booby Trap. 

Soon they're time was up and they packed up, laughing and pushing each other around while talking about the movies. Michael stayed separate to them, packing up his movies in total silence. 

He felt someone come up behind him and tensed when Rich placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“What’s up man? Ready to start the real party?” Rich asked, his eyes sparkling and his lisp barely noticeable. 

“Course!” Michael said, no real energy behind it. 

Rich's smile dropped slightly and guilt clawed at Michael’s chest. But the smile quickly replaced itself as Rich slung and arm around Michael’s shoulders, standing on his tippy toes. 

“Well, let's get going them bud!” Rich said, leading them out to Jake's car. The girls would take Chloe's. 

Michael waved goodbye to Jessica, who was reading a book while chewing gum and went on his way. 

Brookes house was massive. Her dad was loaded, sold engagement rings or something like that. Her house was on the rich side of town, and it was a mansion. No other way to describe it. They all migrated to the living room, talking and gossiping on the newest things in school. From here on out there was no plan, just drinks, games and fun. At least, according to Jake that was. 

Jenna poured everyone a shot of tequila, which Michael adamantly refused. He was the only to decline a drink, even the normally responsible Christine let them cajole her into one single shot. She didn’t seem to like it that much though. 

Soon a game of beer pong was set up, with Jenna, Christine, Michael and Jake on one team and Jeremy, Chloe, Brooke and Rich on the other. 

Jake was quickly nearing drunk, having to drink for both Christine and Michael since they both refused to touch a drop of that stuff. Michael felt himself become slightly wary about the taller boy, the same way he felt around all drunk people. The uncertainty crawling through his mind, keeping him on edge despite not really being in any trouble. It was this way with everyone, trauma carving his mind until he automatically assumed drunk equals danger.

Despite his reservations, Michael found himself having fun, he found it easy to dunk the ping pong ball into the cup, his aim almost perfect as he was probably the most sober out of them all. Although really, the only two who were drunk was Jake and Chloe, who both did the majority of the drinking.

After a while his team won and they all filtered back into the living lounging on couches and the floor. They started sharing stories about middle school and Elementary, embarrassing themselves and other in the process, Michael found himself laughing along with the others, and for once he was part of the group. Not on the outside looking it, not a stranger only there for support, but someone they all enjoyed being with. It made his chest glow with warmth. Michael was in the middle of telling them all a very embarrassing story about Jeremy when his phone suddenly pinged. Looking down, his good spirits sank as he saw his dads’ text. 

Dad: I’m here. You got five minutes before I leave.

Michael quickly sat up, leaning away from Rich who’s legs he had been leaning against. 

“Hey, sorry my dad’s here early, I have to go.” Michael said, reaching over to grab another handful of chips before he left. He saw Jeremy frown out of the corner of his eye.

“I thought your mom was picking you up?” he asked, trying to make his concern and curiosity. 

“Nah, she’s out for the night.” Michael fibbed, honestly having no idea why his mom couldn’t drive him. He didn’t really care either, the only thing he cared about right now was that his dad wasn’t too drunk to drive.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” Jeremy said, standing up quickly. 

“I’ll join too.” Rich chimed in, standing up before Michael could deny him. 

Michael sighed, allowing himself to be led away by his two overprotective friends. They walked part of the way in silence, Rich on one side and Jeremy on the other. Michael was lost in my thoughts, thinking back to his earlier fight with his dad in case he decided to bring it back up during the car ride. 

“Are you going to be okay Mikey?” Rich asked gently when they reach the doors, his hand resting on Michaels arm. He smiled softly over at him. 

“Of course, sorry I have to leave early. Dad probably doesn't want to drive out that late.” Michael replied, twisting the door handle. 

“Probably doesn't want to interrupt his drinking time.” Jeremy muttered darkly, and Michael shot a glare at him. 

Jeremy could be overprotective at times since Michael told him the truth about his parents. It was odd how the boy who stuttered and sweat whenever an adult talked to him could suddenly be so hateful towards someone older than him without regret. 

“Text us when you get home yeah?” Rich said loudly, obviously trying to change the subject. 

“And call us if you need anything.” Jeremy chimed in. Michael smiled at then both, nodding his thanks as he slipped out the door and into the cool night air. 

He saw his dad waiting outside the truck for him, his arms crossed and a dark look on his face. 

He stepped forwards when Michael approached, only stumbling a bit as he clasped and arm around Michael and pulled him close. 

Michael flinched from the contact, trying not to freak out as he was pressed against his dad's chest with no escape. The touch sparked, electricity sparking at the feeling of his dads’ arms wrapped around him for the first time in a while, making his heart jump into his throat. He didn’t have time to question the unusual display of affection, the action as much of a mystery as his father was. 

“How was the party Mads?” His dad said, letting him go and opening the car door. Michael walked around to the passenger side in a daze, still buzzing after the unexpected hug. 

“Um, it was good. And it’s Michael.” Michael said as he climbed into his dad's truck, clipping on his seat belt and making sure its extra tight. His dad spread out of the driveway, and Michael could see Jeremy and Rich in the window looking at the car with a concerned look on their faces. 

“Did you drink anything Madeline?” His father growled, emphasizing his deadname. Michael bristled slightly. 

“Of course not.” He snapped. “It’s Michael.”

“You should've, liquor is good for your bones.” His dad said, serving in and out of traffic. Michael was beyond grateful that his house was only ten minutes away from Brookes. He couldn't tell if his dad was drunk or not. Although, he had seemed to be a lot soberer than he did that morning. His dad was a master at day drinking, or morning drinking, depending on the occasion. 

“I think you mean milk dad.” Michael said, his voice hard. His father didn’t respond. The rest of the car ride was in silence, the radio silent and tension thick in the air. 

Maybe Michael shouldn’t have immediately gone on defense, his dad was trying to be friendly, came and picked him up when he didn’t need to and even hugged him. It was out of character yeah, but Michael didn’t have to go and mess it up. 

They arrived at home and quickly filed through the door, Michael wanted to make it to the basement as quick as possible to avoid any more mishaps. Him and his dad were already on thin ice since the fight earlier that day. 

Right as he was about to open the basement door, Michael heard his father call out to him. 

“Can you help me out Mads?” Michael slowly trailed into the room, mumbling ‘Michael’ under his breath as he trudged over to his father. 

“Don’t drag your feet, I raised you better than that.” His dad snapped, and Michael immediately brightened, walking normally and making a point of lifting his feet so they wouldn’t drag. His dad nodded in smug approval. 

“Sit, I feel like we need to talk for a bit.” His dad said, gesturing to the chair beside him. Michael sat in it obediently, hating the words ‘we need to talk’ with a burning passion. 

“So, father daughter bonding time? How about it?” His dad said, smiling slightly. Michael couldn't find it inside himself to respond. His chest hurt, and he couldn't tell if it was from the pain of the guilt or his binder. “I just, feel bad about earlier. It was stupid of me to get mad over a small little party.”

Michael frowned slightly, his apprehension melting a tiny bit. His dad was trying to apologize, that was all. “It’s okay dad, it’s not your fault.”

“It’s just I worry about you sometimes, always running around with those boys and getting yourself in trouble. I never know where you are anymore, and you’ve changed so much. I just don’t want to get lost you know.” His dad said, reaching over and taking a long drag of his drink. 

Michael bit his lip, trying to process and come up with a good excuse. 

“I’m living my life dad, you can’t always control it. I need my independence you know?” He said gently.

“No you don’t!” His dad cried, slamming his glass back down, causing Michael to flinch. “I let you have your independence and you went and ruined yourself! I tried to accept you, I really did, but you just make me so mad all the time. Your frustrating and disobedient and insolent.” His dad was ranting now, the former apology dying in Michael’s chest as the guilt and anger grew. 

“I can’t change who I am dad. You tried to restrict my life so many times and I still ended up the way I am. I may be a horrible kid but I’m not a horrible person! You talk to me life I ruined your life but you don’t even take into account how you ruined mine.” Michael felt tears stinging the back of his eyes like it always did when he fought when he fought with his dad. 

“Madeline don’t-” His dad started, frowning and reaching out to grab his whiskey again. 

“It’s Michael!” Michael screamed, slamming his hands down and letting his anger at his father and the injustices of the world take over for a few precious seconds. But then the adrenaline drained out of his body and the fear and survival instincts filtered back in. 

He curled into himself, trying to shy away from his father, who was just staring at him. Michael studied his father, trying to calculate how mad he was and what his next move was going to be. 

His dad was clutching onto his whiskey glass tightly, his knuckles white as he squeeze the glass. His face looked like it was carved out of stone, his mouth a hard line and his eyebrows furrowed, but his eyes, his eyes told Michael he was screwed. 

He wasn’t allowed to yell at his dad, to snap at him like he did. It was almost at the top of his mental ‘do not do for the sake of your health’ list. But like always, he had to be an idiot and do it, his anger a wild animal he couldn’t control, couldn’t tame. 

Panic and fear was taking over, causing his heart to beat faster and his breath to shorten and legs to shake slightly. His gaze shot to the doorway, which was behind his dad. If he could manage to make it behind his dad he could get out the door and into the basement, but that was hoping his dad didn’t catch him or chase him. All the other exits from the room were blocked off.

“That’s not your name.” His dad whispered, his voice low. Michael wanted to reply, to summon back that anger that he felt previously and yell at his dad, argue and make him understand that Michael wasn’t Madeline, that he was a guy. Not a girl. But all his courage had drained, leaving his empty and cold. “That’s not your fucking name!” 

His dad exploded, throwing the glass down at Michael’s feet the glass shattering loudly and causing Michael to flinch so hard he fell off the chair, scrambling through the glass to get away from his now standing dad. The glass cut into his palms but the sting was faint, the more immediate threat of his advancing father forcing the pain to the back of his mind. Michael tried to get up, but his dad landed a well-placed kick to his ribs, sending his tumbling down again.

Michael lay on the ground for another moment before sitting up, facing his father who was standing over him, his hands clenched into fists. He wanted to scream, to try and alert one of his neighbors because the last time Michael saw this much anger in his dads eyes a bunch of pills got shoved down his throat. It had been almost half a year since the Incident happened, but the look of pure anger in his dad's eye still haunted his dreams. And now it was back, staring down at him as if it could erase him from existence. Michael kind of wished it could. 

His dad leaned down, getting close enough that Michael could smell the alcohol on his tongue. His hands roughly grabbed his shoulder, shoving his son back into the ground and he straddled him. 

************

Michael bucked his hips up, trying to dislodge his father, but the older man held him down. 

“So you think you’re a boy huh? Think you have the right to call yourself Michael?” His dad was getting closer, one hand reaching down towards his crotch. Michael felt the panic flare up again as his struggles returned twice as hard. 

“And yet I don’t feel anything down here,” His dad asked innocently, cupping Michaels crotch and squeezing painfully. Michael cried out at the unwanted touch, reaching up to slap at his dad's shoulders, thankfully his dad quickly released him and Michael sobbed. 

“And I feel too much up here.” His dad said, his hand pressing down on Michael’s chest. “You are not a boy you idiot, and you never will be.”

*************

Michael sobbed louder, the sounds of his cries bubbling out of his throat no matter how much he tried to stop it. It was a sign of weakness, a sign of fear. His dad reached his hand back and slapped Michael, the strength sending his head snapping to the side. His father stood up, and Michael scooted back slightly, eager to get any space between them. 

His cheek was throbbing and he felt slightly embarrassed even if there was no one around to watch other than his dad. 

“And even if you had the right parts, your too much of a bitch to be a real man. You complain, you don’t do anything for yourself. You can barely qualify as a person, let alone a man. Your pathetic Madeline. Absolutely pathetic.” His dad growled, and Michael felt the ache in his chest grow, his thoughts swirling with every word. “Go down to your room, I need a drink before I properly deal with you.” 

With those last snarled words his dad stalked off to the kitchen, leaving Michael all alone. 

His thoughts run rampant for a second, swirling around his head as his dad’s words poisoned his mind and seeped into every crack. 

And then they just stopped. 

Everything was quiet for a blissful second and Michael barely felt himself get up to go downstairs. His feet and body moved but his mind was gone, as if he was watching everything from an outsider's perspective. His limbs felt too large a heavy, as if they had suddenly swollen. They didn’t feel like his, he didn’t feel like himself. 

Before he knew it he was sitting downstairs on his bed, wrapping his favorite red hoodie around himself and staring at his phone. He should call someone. His dad said he would be back, that he still had to ‘deal with him’. Michael didn’t want that. He didn’t want that to happen. 

He couldn’t feel anything. The panic, the fear, it was all muted. 

But he felt alone. So god damn alone. He felt so content earlier tonight, surrounded by his friends, laughing and sharing stories, eating chips and watching them all get drunk. He felt normal, like a normal teenaged boy. But now? He was numb, the pulsing pain muffled under his skin and he was alone. Alone sitting on his bed, waiting for his dad to come downstairs and finish the job. Hell, probably even kill him depending on how drunk he really was.

What a fitting death. Dying alone and sad, unfeeling and numb. A sad loser dying alone. He had always been alone in this house. His parents not really his parents but more like robots filling the space, wearing his parents face but never actually there for him. He had always been alone as a child. Then he went to school and was alone with Jeremy. Then Jeremy left, and he was alone again. Now he had so many friends, more than he ever thought, but he was still alone. Fitting, alone despite being surrounded at all times. God damn it. 

He reached for the phone, running over the buttons with his fingers and turning it on. Everything felt weird, unreal, like he had been thrown into someone else's body and nothing really made sense. It felt a tiny bit like dysphoria, but on a much larger scale. When he was feeling dysphoric he didn’t feel at home in his body, detached from his feminine parts. But now, everything fell off, his thoughts, his feelings. 

Before he knew it he was calling someone the phone ringing in his hand as he held it up to his ear. 

“Micah?” Jeremy’s voice filtered through the phone, and Michael blinked for a second before reacting. 

“Hey.” He said, the words feeling wrong on his tongue. He should have thought this through better. He wasn’t sure what exactly to say, how to properly respond. 

“Is something wrong? Why are you calling me?” Jeremy asked, sounding confused and tired. How late was it anyways? He hadn’t been home for too long he didn't think. 

He should probably answer. 

“You said to call if I need anything?” He asked. The words don’t feel like his own. 

“Um, yeah I did. Is something wrong?” He repeated himself, sounding confused and a bit annoyed. 

“I think so. Where are you? Can you come pick me up?” Michael asked, hearing his dad’s footsteps above him, heading towards the basement door. He felt the panic, the fear rising up, but his mind was calm. Disconnected. 

“I’m still at Brooke’s, but yeah I’m sure I can. What happened? Are you okay? What’s going on?” Jeremy suddenly sounded panicky, and Michael could hear movement on the other side along with a few other muffled voices. 

Michael opened his mouth to respond when suddenly the door to his room burst open with a loud bang, his father storming through with a bottle of beer in one hand and anger on his face. Before Michael could react the phone was ripped out of him hands and thrown onto the floor, shattering instantly. 

Michael gazed up at his dad, trying to feel the fear, the terror at the anger on his face or his clenched fists. But everything still felt muddy, like he was gazing down at everything through a bubble. He could feel the pain of his dads’ fists landing on his skin, feel the words and accusations being thrown at him as his dad's anger built up, but at the same time he just didn't. 

His dad wouldn’t stop, Michaels silence and refusal to react fueled his rage, and Michael was dimly aware that his dad was going to kill him if he didn't do anything. He should move, should scream and fight back or at least try something, but he was like a puppet with too long strings, he could barely move his limbs, his movements slow and weak as he curled himself into a ball and just sat there. 

Rapid knocking on the front door was what finally tore his father from his slightly drunken rage. He left Michael there laying on the ground, beat up and broken and wishing everything would stop. He hated this disconnected feeling, the way nothing made sense, the way he felt like a stranger to himself. Like he was thrown into someone's body and told to have fun. 

He dragged himself to his feet stumbling a few steps before falling back over, barely able to support himself anymore. He cried out as he feel to the floor, the pain flaring up high enough that he felt it. He finally felt it, the pain breaking through the fog in his mind and making him let out a half-choked scream before his vision went black and he faded away. 

______________________________________________

 

Jeremy was freaking out.

He had just been sitting at Brooke’s, all of them attempting the chubby bunny challenge when Michael called him. He quickly excused himself, walking into the other room for privacy. 

“Micah?” He asked, confused. Michael had left a little under an hour ago, and Jeremy wasn’t expecting a call from him. 

“Hey.” Was all Michael said, and Jeremy hated to say it, but his friend sounded off, cold, like he wasn’t really thinking things through. 

“Is something wrong?” Jeremy asked, “Why are you calling me?”

“You said to call if I needed you?” Michael said, sounding almost lost, like he was unsure. Jeremy distinctly remember saying that before Michael left. Jeremy absolutely hated watching Michael leave with his dad. Ever since six month ago when he came home to hear Michael finally admit the abuse he suffered, Jeremy had felt nothing but absolute rage towards Mr. Mell.

He hated watching Michaels face drop whenever his dad got brought up or whenever he had to leave Jeremy's house. Jeremy wanted to hold tight onto Michael and pull him away form that hellhole, to hold his friend tight every time he showed up with a new bruise or when Michael sometimes came over to his house and just sat in silence, too afraid or sore to move. 

It made Jeremy feel helpless, like Michael was suddenly a distant planet knocked out of their rotation whenever he went home and Jeremy had no way of bringing him back into their orbit. He wanted to hold his friend tight but that asshole of a man made Michael flinch anytime a hand came near him, unable to distinguish if it was friendly or not. 

“Um, yeah, I did. Is something wrong?” Jeremy asked, making an effort to mask the rising worry in his voice. Michael hated asking for help, only did it when he was literally about to die. His dad seemed weird tonight, even hugged Michael when he picked him up. Jeremy knew something was up. 

He was already plotting out the quickest way there. He started walking back to the living room, hearing his friends still laughing and yelling at each other even though he was halfway across the house. 

“I think so. Where are you? Can you come pick me up?” Michael asked, absolutely no emotion behind his voice. Jeremy's heart skipped in fear as he picked up the pace. He didn't have a car there, but Chloe did. He could probably con her into giving it to him for the night. Not like he would give me any other choice though, and she was pretty drunk. 

“I’m still at Brooke’s, but yeah I’m sure I can. What happened? Are you okay? What’s going on?” Jeremy asked rapidly, finally making it back to the living room. Rich’s head immediately snapped to his, being the only other person who knew about Michaels predicament made him Jeremy's only current ally. 

Jeremy heard Michael begin to say something when suddenly there was a loud bang, sounds of a small struggle before a loud crashing noise. Suddenly the connection cut off, a dial tone filling Jeremys ear. 

“Michael?” He asked, stopping in the middle of the room, aware of everyone now watching him. But that didn't stop the cold feeling in his gut, building up into panic. “Michael?”

But no one was there. 

Jeremy cursed under his breath and hung up, his eyes snapping to Rich who was already halfway across the room and in a second the shorter boy was grabbing tightly onto Jeremy's arm. 

“Do we need to go?” He asked quietly, barely controlled worry and anger pulsing off of him. Jeremy just nodded, his eyes snapping to Chloe. 

“We need your car.” Jeremy said, his voice shaking. Chloe, despite being a really tipsy, nodded and quickly fumbled for her keys. 

“What's wrong? Is Michael okay?” Christine asked, standing up quickly. Jeremy couldn't respond, simply shook his head. It wasn't his story to share. 

Christine frowned. “I'm coming with you.” She said, crossing her arms as if daring him to disagree. Jeremy was about to protest when Jenna spoke up. 

“Me too.” She declared, moving up beside Christine. 

“I shouldn't.” Chloe said. “I'm drunk and I’ll get in the way. Same with Jake. We'll stay back. Tell us everything though.” She said, pointing to Jake, who was conveniently asleep. Jeremy couldn't find it inside him to judge the boy though.

Brooke nodded, “I'll stay back here in case something goes wrong.” She said, looking concerned. 

Rich nodded before Jeremy could say anything, already halfway out the door. “Hurry up.” he said, running to the door. Jeremy was about to follow him when Chloe spoke up again. 

“I know somethings wrong. Bring him here safe or I will cut someone's balls off. Doesn't matter who.” She said, glaring Jeremy down. 

Jeremy intended to hold himself to that promise. 

He ran out the door, climbing into the driver's seat and flooring it down the road. 

“What did he say? What's going on?” Jenna asked, and Jeremy hesitated. 

Jenna was a good friend of Michaels. Even if they didn't hang out all the time they texted a lot and it wasn't hard to see the girl cared for his friend. But she was also a renowned gossiper, and this was the last thing Michael would want getting around.

“Jeremy. We need to know. Michaels our friend and we can tell something wrong but we can't do anything if you hide the truth from us.” Jenna snapped, glaring daggers at his head. 

Jeremy blushed a deep red and looked over at Rich, who shrugged. 

“I can't tell you everything. Because it's not my story to tell.” Jeremy started off, unsure of how to best word it. Both Christine and Jenna were insanely smart, they would have already formed multiple assumptions. Probably mostly true. “All you need to know is that Michael called me asking for me to pick him up, saying he needed help. I asked him what was wrong and the connection suddenly cut, like the phone was destroyed.” 

Rich made a noise of distress beside him, his eyes blazing with anger that was probably aimed at Michaels dad, but Jeremy could see the fear hidden behind them. 

Rich and Michael had become close friends since the Incident. So close that sometimes Jeremy was sometimes a bit jealous. But now all he could be was grateful. Grateful that someone felt the same hate and anger and protectiveness as he did. Grateful that Michael finally had someone else on his side, someone willing to fight for him. 

Jeremy chose to say nothing as he pressed the pedal a little harder. 

The arrived at Michael’s house a few minutes later, Rich out the door first with Jeremy close behind, the girls took a little longer, giving the boys their privacy despite their own concern. Rich knocked rapidly on the door, his fists pounding against the wood. They waited for a moment before knocking again, this time louder and for longer. 

After another minute of no response Rich cried in anger, looking over at Jeremy. 

“I'm going to check his window. Keep knocking.” And with that he was gone, running around to the other side of the house. Jeremy obeyed his order and kept knocking, his hand slightly sore from how hard he was pounding the wood. 

Suddenly loud angry footprints approached and the door was ripped open, revealing a very angry Mr. Mell. Both girls stepped forward immediately, as if sensing the danger and subconsciously protecting Jeremy from it. 

Jeremy tried to regain his breath, he hadn’t thought ahead this far. He was horrible at speaking to people, especially this monster. Anxiety bubbled up in him, stealing his breath away and setting his heart beating. 

“Yes?” Mr. Mell asked, his breath reeking of alcohol so strong Jeremy cringed. 

“Is Michael in? He called me and asked for my help moving something.” Jeremy asked, his voice wavering slightly as he scratched behind his ear. 

“Maddy is in bed. She's tired. Goodbye Jeremy.” Mr. Mell said before slamming the door shut. 

“Maddy?” Jenna asked the same time Christine said, “She?” 

“Long story.” Jeremy muttered, avoiding their eyes. Michael was going to kill him when he found out that his dad let it slip about the whole transgender thing. 

Jeremy quickly ran around to the side of the house, seeing Rich slowly prying the window open. 

“Quick! I can see him. Or well his hair, he’s just laying in the doorway. I’m going in.” Rich whisper yelled, and Jeremy nodded before turning to the girls. 

“Rich and I are going to grab him. Go start the car and update the others.” he hissed to them, thankful when they obliged. 

Rich was already slipping through the window, becoming for him to follow. 

Jeremy slipped through as well, the frame just large enough for his shoulders to fit though. He landed softly on the floor, both of them pausing to make sure the older Mell wasn’t going to come downstairs. 

Jeremy lead the way, practically running to where he could see Michaels mop of brown hair splayed out of the floor. 

His heart stopped as he entered the room.

Michael looked like shit. His lips was bleeding all over his face, which was bruised and swollen bright red and blue. Rich cursed under his breath, and Jeremy followed his gaze down to Michael’s arms, which were littered with finger print shaped bruises and handprints. His hands were cut up and bleeding all over the floor and Jeremy didn’t even want to look at his friend’s torso. 

Rich was the first to move, slowly reaching down to take Michaels pulse. Jeremy held his breath as he waited for the response. 

“Slow but there. He's just unconscious. We need to get him out of here now.” Rich hissed, and Jeremy agreed. 

His anger and fear were simmering up the top, and he wanted nothing more than to storm upstairs and best the living shit out of Michael's father. 

But Michael was the priority, his friend needed help. 

“Oh Michael.” Jeremy whispered brushing a loose piece of hair away from his face. 

Michaels face scrunched up slightly, his eyelids fluttering slightly open for a second before squeezing shut and he whimpered. 

“Shhh.” Jeremy shushed him, running his fingers through Michael’s hair to calm his friend down. 

A door nearby suddenly slammed open, and both Rich and Jeremy froze, looking up to each other. 

Michael’s dad was coming back downstairs. 

“Shit,” Rich whispered, grabbing Jeremy’s hand and yanking him further into the room and into the closet. The room was crowded and dark, but Jeremy could see a bit of the room through the slot in the door. 

Jeremy held his breath, his heart pumping as Michael’s dad walked into the room, kneeling beside his son. 

“Oh Mads.” He whispered, his fingers carting through Michael’s hair just like Jeremy’s were only moments ago. 

Michael opened his mouth to reply but only a whimper came out before his eyes fluttered closed again, his breathing slowing slightly. 

Mr. Mell carefully wrapped his arms around Michaels body and picked him up, careful not to jostle him to much as he placed him on the bed. He sat beside him, his hands hovering over Michael’s body as if he was scared to touch him. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He finally whispered before planting a kiss on Michael’s forehead and stumbling away.

Jeremy let out his breath and carefully opened the door, making sure that the asshole was gone. Rich went straight to Michael, grabbing his legs and arms and scooping him up into his arms. 

“He’s so fucking light.” Rich grumbled, staring down at his unconscious friend. 

“He’s always been pretty lightweight, and your also ripped.” Jeremy replied, going to the back door and quickly unlocking it. Rich put Michaels feet down and the two boys both draped one of his arms over his shoulder. 

Michael seemed to be coming back into the living world, his head rolling as he shook it slightly. 

“Rich? Jer?” He slurred, finally managing to get his feet under him. 

“Yeah buddy it’s us, you’re okay now.” Rich cooed, and Jeremy stared at him like he grew a second head. He had never seen this side of Rich, the soft and squishy one. 

“Where are you taking me?” Michael asked, looking around, Jeremy noticed that somehow his glasses had been knocked off and cursed. Michael probably couldn’t see much of anything right now. 

“Back to Brooke’s. She knows some first aid.” Rich replied, walking a bit faster. They were already halfway to the car, Jeremy could see the two girls waiting outside, waiting for their cue to rush forwards to help. 

Michael suddenly stopped, his eyes widening. 

“No, no they can’t find out.” He said, pulling away from them. Both Rich and Jeremy held fast. “They can’t find out about dad. They can’t.”

Michael was working himself up to hysterics, Jeremy could tell. He knew all the signs from his own and anxiety and dealing with Michael’s for 12 years. 

“Hey, breathe Micha. Your injured, their worried, there’s no other choice, we can’t afford the hospital. Rich and I will be there the whole time, nothing bad is going to happen.” He soothed, coaxing Michael forwards. 

“You can just leave me here, I’m fine.” Michael insisted, pulling back even more. 

“No you’re not Mikey.” Rich said firmly. “This is too far. If we didn’t show up he might have killed you. You are not going back there.”

Michael opened and closed his mouth. Before just hanging his head and following them again. Jeremy didn’t want to think about how easily Michael gave in. How easily he agreed to go with them, as if he knew that tonight was the final straw. 

The girls finally grew impatient when they arrived at the car, yanking the doors open and quickly taking Michael’s arms. They packed him into the back seat, cooing and checking for broken bones while Michael tried his best to shake them off. 

The car ride was almost silent, with only Jenna and Christine talking quietly to distract Michael from the pain he was most likely in. 

They arrived at Brooke’s and Christine ran ahead get Brooke, who apparently was the only one who had any medical knowledge out of the entire group after she trained as a lifeguard. Rich took Michael to the back of the house so that the amount of people who saw him in this fragile state was lessoned. 

Jeremy called his dad, quickly telling him he was staying over at Brookes and not to worry. 

There was no way he or any of the others were planning on leaving Michael alone now. 

Jeremy sat in the living room with everyone while waiting for Brooke to return. It felt oddly like waiting for a doctor to come out and tell you if your loved one survived surgery. 

Brooke came in a few minutes later, her lips sealed about how Michael was doing. She led them all to separate rooms, apparently she had ten different guest rooms, and then Jeremy was left all alone in a large empty room. 

He laid down before his thoughts could get to him, telling himself that the sooner he fell asleep the sooner Brook would allow him to see Michael. He soon he fell into a restless sleep, plagued with visions of Michael’s body laying motionless on the ground. 

_______________________

Michael was suppose to be sleeping. 

That’s what Brooke ordered him to do when she left. She had wrapped his injuries and berated him for not letting her look at his torso. But she already most likely knew about the fact that he was abused, there was no way he was going to tell her that he was trans. 

That was just too much.

He was so fucking sore.

He tried not to think about the night before, or well whenever it happened. Every time he did he could see his dads face hovering over him, raining down hit after hit as his alcohol fueled rage took over his mind. 

He was in shock, him and his dad had been in what Jeremy called “the honeymoon phase”. It had been a few months since his dad had laid a hand on him, nothing more than a little hit every month or so. Sure they fought a little and things were always tense. But they had been on good terms, and now it was gone. 

Michael could hear his dad’s sneering voice, and could feel the detached feeling he felt when walking downstairs. His fingers itched for his phone, or his music, hell he would even take a book. Anything to get rid of the pounding thoughts running through his head. 

He looked at the bed, longing for sleep but he knew that it wouldn’t come. 

He sighed and moved to get off the ground, walking to the door and quietly easing it open. He wouldn’t be able to leave, he couldn’t do that to his friends, couldn’t worry them like that. But he debated it, slipping out the front door and walking until he got home. Where he could then take his car and just drive away, to the next city, the next state, somewhere far away. Where he could be free. But his ribs twinged painfully and he decided against it. He wandered around the house as quietly as possible, listening to the sounds to his friends sleeping. 

Eventually he found himself at the back door, quickly unlocking the door and slipping outside to the back porch. He sat down on the stairs, humming his favourite Bob Marley song as the cold air made him shiver. He dug his thumb into a bruise on his arm, the pain and the cold centering his thoughts, keeping them away from the dark topics threatening to take over. 

He had a lot to think about. He couldn’t get distracted. 

He had to go back home at some point. All his clothes, possessions, and meds were there, but did he truly want to go back? Something had changed that night, something had finally snapped inside him. Before this the worst he would suffer was sometimes a slap or a punch when Michael messed up. He could justify that, Michael messed up all the time, he deserved to be corrected. But now, how could he justify this?

In the span of six months, his dad had beat him within an inch of his life twice, both over a small fight. His dad was a tightly wound fist, ready to release at any moment. Ready to lash out at the first person who dared step up to him. And now, him suddenly disappearing after his dad witnessed a phone call means his dad now knows his friends are aware of Michaels problem. If he goes back, Michael didn’t know what would happen, but it wouldn’t be good. 

Michael reached up and brushed at his eyes, ignoring the way a few stray tears trickled down his cheek. 

God damn it.

Suddenly the door behind him swung open and Michael leapt to his feet, cringing at the way his injuries protested. 

He relaxed when he saw it was only Rich, walking outside with two mugs in his hands. 

“Hey, sorry if I woke you up.” Michael said, sitting back down on the steps and letting Rich join him. Rich smiled and silently handed him a mug filled with what looked like hot chocolate. 

“I was already up. Heard you come outside and thought you could use a nice drink.” Rich said leaning against Michael’s side, careful not to put too much pressure on Michael injuries. “You look like hell man.”

Michael let out a short and humorless laugh, he hadn’t looked in the mirror yet, but he guessed that statement was pretty true. 

“I can’t go back can I?” He whispered in response, taking a long sip of his drink to cover the fact that his voice was breaking and tears were welling up in his eyes again. 

Rich wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into his side as Michael hid his face in the smaller boy’s neck. 

“I can’t make that decision for you Mickey. But, he’s hurting you. You don’t deserve that and I hate seeing you like this. I just want to go over there and punch him in the face. But you have a legion of friends by your side no matter what you choose to do.” Rich whispered, running his hands through Michaels hair. 

They sat there in silence for a while, before Michael sat up and quickly kissed Rich on the cheek. He could feel the scared skin under his lips but he found he didn’t care. He pulled back and smiled at Rich, who’s cheeks were burning bright right. 

“You’re an idiot Michael.” Rich said, punching him in the arm lightly. 

“You’re the best Richie.” Michael said with a grin, turning back to look up at the sky. 

Brooke lived somewhere similar to the country, and the stars were twinkling bright in the sky. They spent the next hour pointing out random constellations and pointing at the brightest stars in the sky and relating them to their favourite celebrities. 

Eventually Rich started to get tired, leaning against Michael and slowly drifting off. Michael hummed under his breath, and when he was sure his little friend was fully asleep he gathered him into his arms and carried him inside despite the way it hurts his ribs and arms. 

He managed to find Rich’s room, the only room on the floor with an open door other than his, and placed his friend on the bed, carefully tucking him in. 

For good measure Michael carefully reached over to the pen beside the bed and drew a dick on his face. 

Because Rich was totally asking for it. 

_______________________________

The next morning Michael got up early to make everyone pancakes. He wasn’t the best baker, but he could make some mean breakfast foods. 

Brooke and Jenna filtered in next, both of them sitting on the counter and kicking at him whenever he walked by. Jeremy and Christine came in next, with Jeremy carrying the other girl on his back since she was still half asleep. Rich came in half an hour later, glaring softly at Michael with the faint remain of black ink left on his face. 

Michael grinned at him and set down a plate filled with pancakes and cut up strawberries, making a loud “mwah” sound just to add insult to the injury. Cloe and Jake were the last ones in, both walking in with exhausted looks on their faces. Michael quickly turned and grabbed two specially made plated filled with eggs and bacon and two cups of water each. 

“You are a god send Michael.” Chloe said gratefully as she started shoving bacon into her mouth. 

Michael looked around at all his friends, each with a plate of food and drinks in front of them and he felt satisfied. 

“Where’s your food Michael?” Christine asked, looking up from where she was shoveling pancakes into her mouth, seeming more awake then before.

“Not hungry.” Michael replied, turning away and picking up his cup. He was slightly nauseous to tell the truth, and the thought of actually eating and swallowing food sounded like hell. It happened sometimes after a bad fight with his dad and a few hits to the head. 

“Michael,” Jeremy started, but Michael cut him off by slamming the cup back down, the noise cutting through the room. 

“I’m fine.” He hissed into the shocked silence of the room. Michael was tense, his heart pounding because he was trying to be normal god damn it. 

Why couldn’t he just be normal.

“Does anyone want any seconds?” Michael asked quietly, forcing his shoulders to untense and hands to unclench. But he couldn’t force himself to turn around, to face all their stares of disgust and disbelief at him for snapping like that. 

Michael’s heart leapt into his through and he felt the bile creeping back up. 

He reached for his glass again, ignoring the way his finger shook slightly and raised it to his mouth. Sharp pain struck him in the side as he stretched a bruise, causing Michael to recoil in pain and drop the glass to the floor.

It shattered on impact, glass shard flying everywhere, the noise piercing the room and right into Michaels mind, setting off a thousand alarms. Michael’s heart leapt into his throat as he stumbled back slightly, before his eyes flew up to his friends, who were all sitting in shock, staring at him and the broken glass at his feet. A traitorous thought ran into his head, reminding him of the way his dad’s glass shattered last night. 

Michael quickly feel to his knees, trying to scoop up the glass as quick as he could. 

“I’m sorry Brooke, I didn’t mean to I swear.” Michael said, his breath so short that he couldn’t get out any more words as he continued to scoop the broken glass into his hand. 

He caught sight of the bandage wrapped around his hand. A reminder of the cuts that were caused by the same thing he was currently picking up. Suddenly someone touched his shoulder, causing Michael to flinch so hard he knocking himself over. He looked up, finding himself staring at Rich, who was kneeling in front of him with his hands in the air. 

“Come on Mikey, your hurting yourself, just focus on me.” Rich was whispering, slowly reaching his hands towards Michael like he was a frightened animal. Which was probably true. 

Michael could feel a panic attack on the edge of his vision, causing his breathing to quicken and his hands to shake. He couldn’t freak out on everyone, they had already seen him at his worst, beaten and bruised and barely able to stay awake, and now here he was, sitting on the ground in a pool of water and shattered glass. 

Rich carefully grabbed his hands, and Michael fought to not flinch away again. 

“Unclench your hands please Micha.” Jeremy was suddenly there, placing a hesitant hand on his shoulders as Rich pried at Michael’s fingers. Michael looked down, trying to figure out why they were so adamant about opening his hands when he saw what he was clutching. 

“Oh.” He whispered, opening his hands and letting the now blood-soaked glass shard fall to the ground again. The bandages were red with blood from where the new glass had either re-opened his older cuts or created new ones. 

Rich shushed him, carefully grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his left hand to try and stop the bleeding. 

Michael looked around, only just noticing that all of his friends had filed out of the room at some point, leaving him alone with Jeremy and Rich. 

“I’m sorry.” Michael whispered, curling into himself slightly, pulling his hands away from Rich and Jeremy. 

“No, no you’ve done nothing wrong.” Jeremy said, chasing Michael as he pulled away and smothering him into a hug. Rich joined a moment later and Michael wasn’t able to deny the fact that he felt safe here. 

“I’m a mess aren’t I?” Michael said, smiling fondly at his two friends. 

“Yeah,” Rich said with a cheeky grin. “But you’re a hot mess so I guess it’s okay.”

_______________________________

An hour later Jeremy had managed to convince Michael that everyone didn’t hate him and they just wanted to know what was going on. 

They had all been sitting in the living room, waiting for Michael and Jeremy to come out of the kitchen that Michael had been hiding in ever since breakfast. 

Rich had left after Michael seemed to calm down a little bit, probably to assure them all that he wasn’t dying yet. 

He felt like he was, the anxiety and fear clawing at his throat, choking him as he attempted to get it under control. He had to do this, he knew that much. His friends had seen him at his lowest, beat to hell and panicking on the floor, they needed an explanation. 

He just had to remind himself of that every ten seconds when his mind started yelling at him to turn, to run, to just escape and never have to deal with any of this ever again. 

So raised his chin, pulled on the old shirt that Brooke gave him to sleep in, and stepped out of the room. 

Immediately he was bombarded with questions, his friends all talking a thousand miles per hour, demanding answers. Their voices were loud and hurt his head, but he ignored the discomfort, forcing himself to sit down and wait until he quieted. 

“You guys deserve an explanation.” He said quietly, his skin feeling too hot. He felt like he was melting, his skin melting off his frame every second he sat there. 

“No shit.” Jake deadpanned, looking confused and slightly angry, which was pretty much his only two moods if you ignore ‘obnoxiously happy’ from that list. 

“So, it’s probably best to lead of with the fact that you guys have probably already figured out.” He continued as if Jake never spoke. He was talking faster, just trying to get the words out of the way. Push them from his mouth before the taste could poison him. “So, lets lead with the obvious fact that I’m not from the best house. My dad and mom are both massive assholes and I pissed my dad off a lot last night and now I’m here like this.”

He paused, the silence filling the room. Christine and Brooke both looked oddly close to tears, Chloe and Jenna looked livid, and Jake walked over to him, kneeling in front of Michal. 

“I get it dude, my parents sucked too. Anything you need we’ll be right behind you.” Jake promised, sounding a lot more mature than he normally did. Michael nodded, a little choked up. 

“I’ll kill him.” Chloe swore, her eyes aflame and her hands clenched into fists. She looked intense as hell. “I’ll murder him I swear. No one gets to treat their child like that, let alone my friend.” 

Brooke leaned over to her, pulling Chloe into a hug and Michael briefly thought that Chloe was going to reject it, but the girl relaxed instantly and okay. Chloe and Brooke weren’t really what he was expecting. 

Actually, scratch that he had been shipping it for a long time. 

“Why?” Jenna broke the silence, looking slightly pissed off and like she wanted to throw hands. “Why would he do that to you?” Michael opened his mouth, then closed it again. 

You know what? The panic in his veins was lessoning, and he was on some pretty good painkillers thanks to Brooke, so why the hell not? It’s about time for him to be spontaneous don’t you think?

“They hate me because I’m trans.” He blurted out, and the room went silent again. Michael hear both Rich and Jeremy immediately go to his side, surprised but ready to support him, to have his back. 

They all started talking at once. 

“What does that mean?” Jake was saying, looking confused.

“Oh Michael I’m so proud of you!” That was Christine, smiling sadly at him.

“What an asshole.” Jenna was saying, her hands waving.

“I’ll kill him.” Chloe repeated, fired up again. 

“I can’t believe it.” Brooke was saying, her hand still on Chloe’s arm. 

“Yo, shut up!” Rich barked, his voice cutting them all off. “One at a time dudes.” 

Jake put up his hand, smiling dopily at them like he was doing something good. 

“Jake?” Michael said wearily, pointing at him with a dismissal wave. 

“SO, what does that mean exactly?” Jake asked. “Like, are you a girl or a guy? Do you like have a-“

“Jake.” Jeremy cut in as Michael flushed. “Please refrain from continuing.” 

“I’m a guy.” Michael said confidently. “My name is Michael and what’s in my pants are none of your concern, unless you really want to know.” Michael said half jokingly, winking at Jake. The other boy didn’t pick up the joke, nodding solemnly. 

Rich chocked behind him, smacking Michael head. Michael turned to grin at him, and Rich just shook his head, but Michael could see the affection behind his eyes. Michael felt like a little shit, so he winked at Rich too. 

“So what,” Christine said, pulling his attention back from Rich. “Your dad didn’t accept you?” 

“Nope.” Michael said with a grin and a hysterical laugh. It was weird, telling them all this, almost freeing. Michael really wanted a joint right now, that would really top off this crappy day. “To him and mom I’m just ‘Madison’ their rebellious daughter who is stuck in the crazy realities inside her head.” He spat the words, the bitter taste staying on his tongue. 

Christine suddenly dived at him, her arms wrapping around him as he gasped, not expecting it. She was shaking, crying for him. He was shocked, but wrapped his arms around her too, her small frame easily fitting in his arms. Jenna followed soon after, and soon Chloe and Brooke too. Jake joined a second later, confused but he had the right energy. 

“Bro hug!” Rich said with a laugh, him and Jeremy walking around to join the pile. Michael smiled at the callback, remembering the time he spent with Jeremy and Rich, hugging in the kitchen after a confession similar to this. 

But this time, it wasn’t just him and his two best friends. It was all his friends, raising him up, empowering him and supporting him. Michael felt some tears leak out of his eyes, and his chest felt suspiciously tight and warm. 

It was nice to be surrounded by people who loved you. 

He had a feeling he wasn’t going to be alone again anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> There it is! Hope y'all enjoyed, leave a comment down below over things you liked, hate, enjoyed, stuff like that.


End file.
